Just A Little Taste Read online

  Kiera gave him a wide berth as she headed for the back of the truck. Before she could unlock the padlock hanging from the back door, Trey plucked the keys from her fingers and did it for her.

  “What are you doing with a food truck anyway?” he asked as he drew the lock shackle from the fastener. “I thought you went to school in psychology or some shit like that?”

  Some shit like that…

  It was such a Trey thing to say.

  “I was a political science major. I went to culinary school after I got my degree. I own my own catering company now. I want to branch out by adding a food truck component to it.”

  He peered at her over his shoulder. “I’m glad to hear all those recipes you used to test out on me weren’t because you wanted to give me heartburn for being such a dick.” She opened her mouth to protest, but Trey stopped her. “That was a joke. I used to enjoy your cooking. Except for that one time,” he tacked on.

  Kiera felt her cheeks heat. She knew exactly what he was talking about. The time he’d gotten food poisoning when she’d ambitiously tried to replicate Julia Child’s bouillabaisse recipe.

  “I apologized for that,” Kiera said. “Besides, you didn’t have to eat it.”

  A hint of that sexy smile reappeared. “You know I always had a hard time saying no to you.”

  Except for the one time he did.

  The stark reminder of what he’d done to her heart was exactly what she needed to remind her to keep this strictly about business.

  She pointed to the truck. “I have to get back to my kitchen soon. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with this.”

  His whiskey-colored eyes examined her for several long, heart-stopping seconds before he braced his hand on the inside of the door and propelled himself up and inside the truck. He held a hand out for her.

  Kiera faltered for the briefest moment. Of course, he caught her hesitation. And, being Trey, of course he wouldn’t let her get away with that without remarking on it.

  “Don’t be afraid. You know I don’t bite unless you ask me to.”

  Her body shuddered in response to his silkily spoken words. When she looked up, she caught the cocky smile tilting his lips.

  This was such a bad idea.

  With an inward sigh, Kiera accepted his hand and he hauled her into the truck.

  “Alright,” he said. “Show me what I’m working with.”

  He stood with his feet braced apart and those muscled arms crossed over his chest. The early August heat turned the inside of the truck into a sauna, and the thick humidity caused a fine sheen of sweat to glisten on his warm brown skin.

  No question about it; this was a very bad idea.

  Trying her best to suppress these feelings she did not want to be feeling right now—or ever—Kiera guided Trey around the twenty-five-by-eight-foot space, explaining the layout she’d envisioned in her head.

  “I want the hot prep area and the cold prep area to be on opposite sides.” She waved her hands around the middle portion of the truck’s left wall. “The three-compartment sink will go here. I already have that, the cold condiment station and the steaming table stored in Mason’s garage. The only big purchase I haven’t made yet is the warming oven.”

  “You putting in a fryer?”

  “I have a two basket one on order. It should be delivered by the end of the week.” She walked toward the center of the truck. “Now, I know most people have the cooler toward the front, but I want my veggies for the wraps to be as crisp as possible, so it makes more sense for me to put the refrigeration closer to the prep area.” She turned to him. “The menu will mostly consist of Cajun favorites done in a wrap form. I have a jambalaya wrap, shrimp creole wrap, so on and so forth.”

  Kiera felt as if she was rambling, but being in such close proximity to Trey had turned her normally cool and collected disposition on its head.

  “Interesting spin,” was all he said.

  “My catering company specializes in Cajun cuisine. I wanted to continue with the theme, but do something that was more portable and easier to eat on the go.”

  And she was rambling again.

  Why did she feel as if she needed to justify her menu choices to him? He was here to renovate her truck; what he thought about her menu had no bearing on any of this. Though, it wasn’t as if he had asked her to justify anything. She was the one who suddenly couldn’t shut up.

  “You should consider a beverage cooler,” Trey said. “If you get one of the smaller ones it won’t take up much space and it’ll stay cool enough to keep your vegetables crisp.”

  “Are you sure that would work?”

  “I can make it work,” he said. A roguish grin curved up one corner of his mouth. “I’m good at what I do, Slim. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

  Kiera’s eyes fell shut as tremors of awareness skirted along her skin.

  “Don’t do this, Trey.” She opened her eyes and fixed him with her sternest glare. “I already told you, this is business. Strictly business. Don’t think you’re going to come in here with those pretty brown eyes and that sexy little smile and make me fall for you again. There will be no strolls down memory lane, you got that?”

  His left brow arched. “If I recall correctly, you’re the one who pursued me back then.”

  He was right; she had.

  Young, stupid, and trying her best to rebel against Mason’s overbearing protectiveness, she’d set out to land the one boy she knew Mason would object to the most. She’d had no idea what she had been getting herself into back then.

  But that was in the past. She wasn’t that girl anymore. Whether or not Trey Watson was still that same wild, reckless boy didn’t matter. That’s not what she wanted from him.

  “Look, getting this food truck off the ground is important to my business. If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’ll find someone else to work on the truck.”

  Though, she had no idea who. She didn’t have time to find anyone else. Trey was her last hope.

  Despite that, Kiera turned and headed for the back door.

  Trey’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. Heat radiated from the spot he touched, singeing her nerve endings and setting off a low burn within her belly.

  In a voice tinged with contrition, Trey said, “Okay, fine. Strictly business.”

  Kiera looked back at him, her eyes narrowing with skepticism.

  He put both hands up. “I promise. No funny business. I’m all about work.”

  “Good,” she said with a nod.

  The edge of his mouth lifted the tiniest bit, sending yet another round of flutters to quake through her belly. With a sexy wink, he said, “I think I’m going to like you being the boss.”

  Chapter Two

  Trey observed Kiera as she walked around the exterior of the truck, pointing out where the features of the custom-designed shrink-wrap would be displayed. He tried like hell to keep his outward expression neutral, but the emotions tumbling inside of him had his stomach in knots.

  When he read her email requesting a meeting to discuss a truck renovation, Trey thought it was the perfect opportunity to show her the kind of success the boy who wasn’t good enough for her had made of himself. He’d even turned down a job on another truck in order to come back to Maplesville and meet with her.

  But that spurt of vindictiveness had quickly started to wither away. It crumbled completely the moment she stepped out of her car. Despite everything that went down with them all those years ago, the thought of being cruel to Kiera in any way made his stomach hurt.

  “You have to make sure the window cutout is precise,” Kiera said. “And right here is where I want a chalkboard built into the side so I can write the day’s menu and specials.”

  “Whatever you say, Boss.”

  She shot another of those exasperated looks his way, wringing a low chuckle from him. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been on the receiving end of that look in the past half-hour. He’d told her that if the
ir dealings were to be strictly about business, then he would address her accordingly.

  Apparently, she didn’t appreciate his humor.

  Trey was laughing now, but earlier, when he’d gotten his first good look at her after fourteen years, laughing had been the furthest thing from his mind.

  In a life full of regrets, letting Kiera Coleman go had always been his biggest.

  It took him a long time to admit it, but he had never gotten over her. Not even close. He never imagined that he would find his soul mate so early in life, but he’d found that with Kiera.

  He still remembered the afternoon she’d first approached him, her two girlfriends, Callie Webber and Jada Dangerfield, looking on in alarmed fascination. Trey had suspected something was up from the moment the normally timid Kiera had sidled up to him and asked if he wanted to take her out for a hamburger after the Friday night football game. Back then, there was only one reason a little goody-two-shoes hottie like Kiera Coleman would want anything to do with a guy like him: she wanted to take a walk on the wild side.

  He’d been wrong. She’d told him point blank that her reason for asking him out was to piss off her older brother, who had embarrassed her the week before by threatening to beat up her date for the senior homecoming dance. Trey was payback, nothing more.

  He had been willing to give her what she wanted. Despite the fact that she had been three years younger and ninety-eight pounds of surefire jailbait, Trey had jumped at the chance to start something up with Kiera.

  Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to fall so damn hard for her.

  It had come as a shock to both he and Kiera. But the connection had been there from their very first date, when they’d sat in the parking lot of the high school football stadium, holed up in his dad’s old pickup that he’d been forced to drive back then. They’d talked until the maintenance workers had arrived the next morning to repair the damage the teams had done to the field the previous night.

  For the six months that followed, he and Kiera had been Maplesville’s most unlikely couple: a boy from the wrong side of the tracks and a girl who had everything going for her. Despite the odds being stacked against them, there had been no doubt in Trey’s mind that Kiera would be the woman he spent the rest of his life with.

  But shit happened. Especially in his life.

  The last decade had been just a bunch of shit happening, one incident after the other. He’d come full circle, returning to his hometown of Maplesville after all these years. It gave him the opportunity to make a fresh start and maybe get things right this time.

  Getting a call from the girl who’d gotten away was a boon—one he probably didn’t deserve—but he was taking it.

  Not that he thought Kiera would simply fall into his arms, and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted that. His and Kiera’s relationship had started out as a farce. Based on how it ended, Trey wasn’t sure if it had ever turned into something real for her.

  Still, it couldn’t change the way he felt about her, even after all this time.

  As Kiera made her way around the truck, Trey studied the woman she had become. She wore her hair much shorter these days, in a sexy cut that had the ends brushing against her high cheekbones. Streaks of honey gold contrasted with her dark brown hair. The highlights made her caramel-colored skin glow.

  Trey couldn’t help but appreciate the way her dark jeans stretched across those thighs he used to dream about at night. He’d always been a leg man. He loved long, willowy ones that could wrap around his waist. Kiera had legs like that. She also had a mouth like an angel. And, as with all great mouths, with just a little coaxing he could get her to do the naughtiest things with it.

  Trey swallowed a moan.

  “You okay?” Kiera asked.

  “Yeah, sure.” He gestured to the truck. “You mind if I take a look underneath the hood?”

  “If you want to.” She shrugged. “My mechanic already checked it out. It was leaking oil, but that’s been fixed.”

  As he tilted the engine hood toward him, Trey ignored the ridiculous flash of jealousy that gripped him at the thought of another mechanic putting his hands on her truck. They had not seen each other in fourteen years. He would be foolish to think another man had not touched more than just her truck.

  He shook off the disturbing thought and poked at the engine, relieved to see that it was indeed in good shape. He would have enough on his hands trying to get the interior renovated within the short timeframe she’d given him; he didn’t need mechanical issues, too.

  “I’ve got a question,” Trey asked as he pushed the hood back up over the engine. “Why didn’t you just buy an already renovated truck? Probably would have made more sense.”

  “I thought I could save money buying something that I could fix up.”

  Trey dusted off his hands. “I hope this didn’t set you back much. It’s not worth more than a couple of thousand.”

  Her silence caused his curiosity to perk up.

  “How much did you pay for this truck, Kiera?”

  “That’s not important.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  She blew out an irritated breath. “Twenty-thousand.”

  Trey felt his jaw go slack before he burst out laughing. “Twenty-thousand dollars for this? Babe, you got screwed nice and hard in that deal, and not in a good way.”

  Kiera held both hands up. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll get somebody else to work on the truck.”

  He caught her by the wrist and turned her around to face him. “Would you stop doing that?”

  “I’m not going to stand here and let you make fun of me, Trey.”

  “I’m not making fun of you.”

  “Yes, you are. You get off on making fun of me. Always have.”

  “Wrong. I got off on doing something else entirely to you, darling.”

  Trey knew he’d crossed a line the moment the words came out of his mouth. Lingering resentment over the way things ended between them was causing him to be unnecessarily obnoxious, and he needed to put a lid on it.

  Kiera jerked her wrist away from him, her eyes shooting daggers. She stepped up to him and pointed a slender finger at his chest.

  “Let’s get something clear right now. If we’re going to work together on this, then you’re going to stop twisting everything I say into some kind of sexual play on words. You got that?”

  Her breaths came out shallow and rapid, the same way they used to after one of their epic arguments—arguments that usually ended with the two of them tearing each other’s clothes off and going at it like a couple of horny kids. Which, of course, is what they were back then. Trey had a feeling that wasn’t happening today.

  “I got it,” he answered, but he didn’t back away.

  “I mean it, Trey. I need to know whether or not you can handle a professional working relationship, because I don’t have to put up with this.”

  She was right. If this were anyone else seeking to hire him, he would never have made that remark.

  “You’re right,” Trey said. “That was completely out of line. Just because we used to…well, you know…it doesn’t give me the right to talk to you that way. It won’t happen again.”

  She studied him for several moments, her expression still holding a hint of distrust. Trey couldn’t blame her. Keeping that promise would be hard as hell.

  Kiera returned their discussion to the truck’s interior. When she mentioned her concern about a lack of counter space between the steam table and drain board, Trey said, “I’ve got a fix that can double your prep area. It’s a fold-down countertop. It should work here.”

  There was a skeptical hitch to her brow when she asked, “Do you have pictures?”

  “I can do you one better. Come home with me and I’ll show you first-hand.” Kiera’s mouth opened, but Trey quickly stopped her before she could protest. “That’s not what I meant.” Shit. “My home is my work.”

  Trey sensed her reluctance, but after a
few moments she nodded and got into her car.

  They headed west and soon crossed the railroad tracks that cut off the northwestern edge of Maplesville from the rest of town. It was the one area that had remained relatively unchanged. There was nothing but sugarcane farms and a junkyard out this way; he wasn’t surprised that businesses weren’t eager to build here.

  They turned onto the dirt and gravel road that led to his family’s property. Trey drove past the white clapboard house where he and his older sister, Lori, grew up with their asshole of a father. That is, until years of inhaling dust while working at the local cement plant—something he’d harped on Trey to do instead of ‘wasting his time’ working on cars—and a three-pack-a-day habit caught up with him back in Trey’s senior year of high school. It was only fair that the lung cancer that had killed his mother five years before would come back to take his old man’s life.

  Lori had moved to St. Louis as soon as Trey graduated from high school. Neither of them had bothered to try selling the old house; it wasn’t as if potential buyers were lighting up the phone line putting in offers to buy.

  Trey continued to the back of the property, pulling his truck up next to the 1963 Bluebird School Bus he’d purchased from a junkyard for five-hundred dollars a couple of years ago. He climbed out of his pick-up and leaned against the rear bumper, waiting for Kiera. She drove up next to him, and rolled down her window.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “You said you wanted to see more of my work.”

  “This is a school bus.”

  “Come inside.” That suspicious look returned to her eyes. “I won’t try anything, Kiera.”

  She climbed out from behind the wheel of her compact SUV, watching him as if he was a cobra ready to strike. She remained two steps behind as he walked over to the bus and opened the door.

  Trey swung his hand out in a sweeping gesture. “After you.”

  Her stare still filled with distrust, she climbed the steps of the bus, turned, and gasped.

  “Oh, my God!” Her eyes flew to his. “You did this?”

  He nodded. “If you want to see exactly what I can do when it comes to renovations, this is the best example.” He climbed up the steps and motioned for her to move further into the space. “Go ahead,” he encouraged. “Check it out.”